


Potter's Field: A Collection of Tall Tales and Sleazy Stories

by TheThompsonGunner



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Gangsters, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partners in Crime, Snipers, Weddings, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23506630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheThompsonGunner/pseuds/TheThompsonGunner
Summary: But romeo is bleeding but nobody can tellAnd he sings along with the radioWith a bullet in his chestAnd he combs back his fendersAnd they all agree it's clearThat everything is cool now that romeos here
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Kudos: 17





	1. Romeo is Bleeding

Me and my buddy Romeo were debt collectors for a local mob boss, after work we were in a strip club down on Heartattack and Vine. Romeo had a Chicano accent, his mother was Salvadoran. The next girl on the pole just came on, things were a bit quiet, when I said to him “did you hear what The Radio Demon did to that Von Eldridge kid?”  
“No, what happened?”  
“Ya know how Von Eldridge used to fuck his new fiancée then it got violent in the end?”  
“I heard that nothing bad happened between them at the end”  
“That’s not the point”  
Romeo muttered something in Spanish before shutting up  
“Alastor threw his ass off of the top of her stupid hotel, the poor bastard fell 6 stories into the empty pool of the place. He can barely breathe. Word is it’s on account of The Radio Demon’s relationship with the princess.”  
Romeo for once turned away from the chick on the pole and said “Damn”  
“Damn indeed my friend”  
“Did he fuck her or something?”  
“No no no no, nothing like that”  
“Then what?”  
“Von Eldridge’s father and her father are friends, so they have to see each other quite a bit. Apparently the kid asked her for a hug”  
“A fucking hug?”  
“For a goddamn hug”  
Romeo turned away, lit a joint and said “It’s a damn shame, but I must say that you mess with the bull, you get the horns”  
“You don’t think he overreacted?”  
“I didn’t say that”  
“But…”  
“I said that if you’re the goddamn princess’ ex-boyfriend, and she’s now fucking The Radio Demon, you got to expect something.”  
“It was a fucking hug, I give my mother a hug.”  
“Hugs open up the route to the ass, cabron.”  
“What in the hell does that even mean?”  
“If you’re hugging a girl, you’re able to grab her ass real easy.”  
“You’ve got a point there, but he still overreacted.”  
Romeo looked back at the girl on the pole, she was a pretty little thing, short brown hair. He said “would you like it if Von Eldridge grabbed your lady’s ass?”  
“I’d break his legs but that’s as far as I’d go”  
“Exactly, but he’s already explored that area, he knows exactly what he’s doing and what she likes, what makes her come, he’s just reminiscing about fucking this girl, man.”  
“You made 7 or 8 good points there I can’t refute. One thing I never understood though, is if your name is _Seviathan_ , how you get to fuck the princess of hell.”  
“It makes no sense cabron, if his name was say Harry, then it would make sense, but not fucking _Seviathan_.”  
I lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and watched the show.

The liquor was bad and so was the company, so we went out of that place at about 11:00. In the morning, I woke up, and went to work. Me and Romeo were heading over to a place to collect. Romeo was driving, he asked “what time do you got?”  
“1:51 PM”  
“Damn”  
“What?”  
“I think today’s the anniversary of Val getting shot.”  
“Damn bastard, got what he deserved.”  
“All of those overlords did, least the ones that were shot.”  
Romeo took a sip of his beer while driving, he said “whatever happened to that Angel guy?”  
“Angel Dust? Christ man, just because I fucked him once doesn’t mean I know the fucker personally.”  
“So you don’t know where he is?”  
I sighed, “I heard he’s being pimped by Caiaphas Jones now.”  
That shook up Romeo  
“That poor, poor, spider bastard,” he said.  
“He’s been a whore longer than Jones has been a pimp, he knows what he got into.”  
“No, no he doesn't.”  
“Jones isn’t the worst pimp down here…”  
“That’s not the goddamn point, that spider bitch is as fragile as a glass bubble, he can’t take a goddamn hit.”  
“But he’s always packing heat. Always. Except in bed.”  
“Jones don’t play that shit man, he doesn’t care if he was pimpin’ Lilith herself, he would still beat the bitch with a clothes hanger now and then. And he can’t stand an ego on a whore.”  
“Fair point. Angel has one hell of an ego.”  
I took a drag of a cigarette I just lit  
“How’s your niece?” I asked Romeo  
“Fuck you”  
I smirked, “How’s your niece?”  
“She’s doing fine.”  
“What’s her name, Vaggie right?”  
“Yes” he said with clenched teeth, “now shut the fuck up.”  
“Alright, alright, Jesus Christ.”

\--------------------

We pulled up at the house  
I had a 45., Romeo had a sawed-off double barrel. Romeo knocked on the door, a short guy answered, Romeo punched him in the nose and asked “Do you know where Gambino’s money is?” The guy laid there on the ground, tears coming out of his eyes, “Fuckin’ pansy,” Romeo said to himself. We moved forward, two fellas were sitting in the living room eating fried chicken, I locked the door and dragged the first fella into the living room. “Hey there,” I said, “whatcha eating?”  
“Fried chicken,” one of them said.  
“I can see that, but where did you get it?”  
“Cluckin’ Hell”, that same one said.  
“Mmm mmm mmm, I love Cluckin’ Hell, do you mind if I take a bite?”  
“Go ahead,”  
I took a bite, it was pretty damn good.  
“That is some damn good chicken, my doctor told me to lay off the stuff…”  
While I rambled on and on, Romeo snuck around the house collecting money.  
“... Do you mind if i take a drink of your soda pop to wash that down?”  
“Go ahead.”  
I took a drink of his coke, it was the first time in a while i had some soda pop. After the sip, I asked, “So, may I ask you what you spent that money on after you took a loan out from Don Gambino?”  
“This place” the third one said.  
“I didn’t ask you a goddamn thing,” I said to the third one, back at the second one I asked, “...but is this true, Buster Brown?”  
“Yea..”  
“What was that? I didn’t hear that”  
“Yes sir”  
“Good, good, you remembered your manners. But with that much money I bet you could afford a better place.”  
Then a few gunshots went off in the backrooms of the house, Romeo came strolling out, a bullet in his chest, bleeding into his white button up shirt, he said “Some bitch back there tried to kill me. I got enough, we can go.”  
“Good day to you all, we gotta split.”  
The guy Romeo decked was still laying on the ground.

\--------------------

We got in the car with the money, Romeo was bleeding like a pig. I drove, while he laid in the back of his Chevy Impala 67’.  
“I’m sorry you got shot, I can’t have you dying on me. Is she still living with you?”  
“Who?”  
“Your goddamn niece”  
“Fuck, I forgot.”  
“I don’t need two unconscious Salvadorans on my hands, is she the type that faints at the sight of blood?”  
“Nah cabron, she used to be a doctor”  
“Thank god”  
We pulled up at his house, it was a small little place. His girlfriend's car was pulled in so she was there. I pulled him out of the car, dragged him to the door, and I practically carried him into the living room, onto a couch. His girlfriend, Michelle said “hey honey- Oh my god! Are you okay?!”  
“Hey Michelle.”  
“Mi Amor, can you go get Vaggie, she’s skilled at surgery.”  
Michelle walked off.  
“Why the fuck is your niece living with you anyways?”  
“Because her parents kicked her out and her girlfriend and her broke up.”  
“Christ.”  
Vaggie walked down the stairs  
“Alright, tell me if you need help” Michelle said to her.  
“How long has he been bleeding?” Vaggie asked me  
“About 10 minutes.”  
“Alright,”  
Vaggie had a surgery kit in her right hand, she kneeled down besides the couch.  
“Hijo de la chingada madre!” Romeo yelled as she inserted some tweezers to remove the bullet.  
She pulled the bullet out, “Christ, a 45., you’re a tough motherfucker, motherfucker,” I said, trying to take his mind off the makeshift surgery.  
He yelled something else in spanish, as she started to stitch the wound back up.  
“I need you to press down right here” She said to me as she pointed at the artery next to his bullet wound in his gut. He started yelling ‘Cabron’ and ‘Pendejo’ as I held down the artery, but his blood stopped pumping quite as hard.  
“And, done.” she said after the finished stitching him up, “Vamos a dormir,” she said to him.  
“You’re gonna live, unfortunately.”


	2. Soldiers Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all this radio really needs is a fuse  
> A tinker, a tailor, a soldier's things  
> His rifle, his boots full of rocks  
> And this one is for bravery, and this one is for me  
> And everything's a dollar in this box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know the lingo:  
> Boche, Fritz, Hun, Kraut = German Soldier  
> Tommy's = British Soldiers  
> Over the top = getting out of the trench and charging at the enemy trench  
> No mans land = the area between the two enemy trenches, named no mans land because of the machine gun fire that prevents life and the shell craters and dead trees that give it a dead look

Summer 1918, France

Alastor sat in his trench, his sights trained on a boche officer. Alastor relaxed, and squeezed the trigger. The officer fell back into the trench he climbed out of. Alastor was happy. He was happy he was in the land where his ancestors once lived, even though he was away from beloved New Orleans. He was happy that he could make his parents proud. He was happy he was helping his country. He whispered “got you, fritz” to himself, and watched through his scope the other boche scramble, but being forced to continue going over the top. He felt something he never felt before, a sort of joy when he shot that kraut. He pulled the bolt back on his rifle and cocked it, loading another round into it, he took sight of a kraut who was at the front of the charge. Alastor pulled the trigger, the hun fell down and some behind him tripped. Alastor unconsciously smiled as he saw them get cut down by American machine guns. 

The blanket of the night sky often allowed enemy soldiers to go into no man's land and set things up, Alastor experimented with his new sadistic tendencies during the dead of night. He saw some boche setting up an artificial tree for a boche sniper to sit in and maybe kill some of the American troops. In the dead of night, he aimed his rifle, praying that he wasn’t hallucinating. He took the shot. The artificial tree fell down and it’s constructors ran. He sat alone, and whistled ‘Dixie’ to himself, a favorite from back home. He closed his eyes on his cot and dreamed. He dreamt of the most beautiful girl, she had hair golden like the sun, and skin like marble, with red dimples on her cheeks. Alastor awoke and smiled, though he was sad his dream ended, but he was happy he could go back to this new sadistic pleasure he took from war.

His rifle had about 3 marks on it, one for each kill. He pulled the bolt back and loaded a round, he cocked the rifle, trained his sights on a kraut who was walking in no man's land at about 2 in the morning, almost taunting Alastor. His heart was beating like a bass drum, yelling “Now! Now! Shoot him Now!” But his mind was saying “wait until you can see him better.” He chose to stick with reason rather than emotion. He lined up the shot on the krauts head instead of chest, he wanted to send a message to the krauts, telling them he would not be taunted. He squeezed the trigger, the bullet splattered his brains all over his comrades, Alastor tried to hold back his smile, “that will teach them” he whispered to himself. He carved another Mark into the rifle. He pulled out some binoculars and stared into no man's land, saddened because of the lack of fritz to shoot. 

He went back to sleep, he dreamed about the girl with the golden hair again, oh how was she beautiful. She wasn’t anything like Mimzy. Mimzy was pessimistic, and didn’t cooperate with his mother well. She left when he said he signed up to the Marine Corps to fight for America. It had been more than a year since he last saw her, he didn’t mind. The dream was wonderful, one thing happened, he held her in his arms as they sat at the cinema. He didn’t want to leave. He awoke to artillery fire, a shell whizzed by him. He put his gas mask on hurriedly. He was conflicted. The skies were blue, unusual, they were usually grey with either clouds or smoke. It wasn’t a gas shell that landed near, but a regular one. The doctors said some soldiers were crazy, they were 'shell shocked', meaning that the sound of the shells landing and being fired from guns either drove them mad or almost mad. Al didn’t worry about becoming like that. He was too in love with war to despise it to the point of going mad. He had discovered a new unholy joy when he shot a boche who was ordered to charge by his officer or lead a charge and stepped out of his trench, only to fall back in with a 30-06 round in his chest.

Al wasn’t even scared of going over the top, ever since the American Expeditionary Forces entered the Western European theater, it was a lot easier to fight, at least according to the tommy’s. Dragline, one of Al’s friends spotted the hun preparing to go over the top. Dragline was a felon, he had killed a man who his wife cheated on him with while working on the Chicago canal. Dragline had no teeth, they were beaten out of his skull by the police, he was another sharpshooter in Al’s unit. Alastor spotted a kraut officer with an eyepatch about 350 yards away, Alastor waited a bit and shot him in the other eye at about 300 yards. Naturally, it terrified the other boche to see an officer get shot in the eye from 300 yards, yet they charged on. Alastor thanked his lucky stars they kept charging, he refused to shoot a man who wasn’t turned towards him no matter how intoxicating the kill was, it was ungentlemanly. He pulled the bolt back on his rifle, put a round in, and pushed the bolt forwards, he aimed at a boche with a flamethrower, he shot the tank of gas on his back, exploding in flame, roasting him and his comrades alive. Alastor grinned. Some of the other boche turned and ran, Alastor let them go. The ones continuing to charge, Alastor silently thanked them before turning their insides into outsides. 

Crack! A hun fell

Crack! Another one

Crack! And another one

Alastor’s kills did more than just scare the boche, it drove them into machine gun fire where they could be cut down far faster. He didn’t hate the boche, but he thought they preyed on the weak and should pay for it with blood, like that Axeman in his beloved New Orleans or the Werewolf of Wysteria. Alastor was given a promotion for his actions that day, he became a sergeant. He dreamt that night about the girl with the golden hair again, how she spoke, how she felt, how she was perfect in every way. For the first time in this godforsaken hole in the ground, Alastor felt something other than the sadistic joy he got from popping a kraut in the head, or the boredom of not seeing any action for weeks on end. He felt truly happy. It was for just a moment, but in that world, he was somebody who did more than kill people, he cared for one too. But his dream world didn’t last for long, for the infantry were going over the top. He had the luxury of being in the sniper corps, so he didn’t have to go. Over the top went Tom “Trench” Jacobs, a man who was shell shocked. As the marines advanced through an open wheat field, Alastor watched through his scope, and Tom was decapitated by a German machine gun. “Buddy, Buddy, you okay?” Dragline asked him, “Yes, I’m fine.” “You sound more like a yankee by the day pal” Dragline said in a joking manner, “You say that again and you’re liable to get a shot through the heart,” Alastor said to him, Dragline laughed and patted him on the back. 

Alastor aimed his rifle at the hun machine gunner who cut down so many Americans, and blew the kraut’s brains out. The rest of the unit cheered, “Goddamn, you are one fine shootin’ sumbitch,” said Alan Gibbons, a boy straight out of the plantations, from Louisiana like the rest of the unit. Alastor aimed his rifle again, this time at a kraut in the trench opposite of theirs. Dragline called out “I got 10-1 odds he’ll get the fritz,” other men started putting dollars into the pot, and multiple looked through their scopes and binoculars, Alastor popped him in the head, and sprayed his brains all over his comrades. Everyone cheered, even those who lost money. Al had 20 more dollars in his pocket, and Dragline made some money as well. Some krauts climbed out of their trenches, “Come on Al, show ‘em what fear means!” Dragline yelled, Alastor shot another kraut officer, but the hun didn’t falter, they charged. He made his last 10 bullets count, even killing 2 krauts with one round one time. Their position had a Browning Machine Gun, Alastor ran over, and started firing. For 3 hours straight, he shot down fritz after fritz, eventually the gun was too overheated, Alastor stood out of the trench, a 1911 in his right hand, a knife in his left. Accepting his demise was imminent, he shot down 7 more krauts, and his gun was empty. Then reinforcements arrived. Alastor, the only surviving member of his unit, was ecstatic. He went back to his cot, laid down, and slept for a day straight. Alastor received a promotion and the congressional medal of honor for his actions.

Staff Sergeant Alastor Laveau wouldn’t see his beloved New Orleans until 1920.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my drivel that I pump out in a few days at a time


	3. Johnsbug, Illinois

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s my only true love  
> She’s all that I think of  
> Look her in my wallet  
> That’s her

Me and my boyfriend Jake were sitting in a cafe, drinking our coffee, when he said to me, “I’ve been invited to the Radio Demon’s wedding, would you like to come with?”

“Are you sure you’d take me and not, say your sister?”

“Oh come on, please come with”

“But I don’t think I’d be suited to go to such a high class event.”

“Nonsense, it would be rather rotten of me not to take you, and Alastor doesn’t like it when people don’t come to his events”

“Oh okay, but only if we get new suits.”

“I was thinking that exactly.”

At the tailors, Jake saw this tannish suit with white gloves and a white tie, he looked smart in it. I got myself a regular black suit with a red tie. After that, Jake shaved himself a pencil thin mustache, and it occurred to me he never explained how he got invited to the wedding. I asked him “Jake, how do you know Alastor?”

“ I used to work for him before I decided to retire.”

“What did you do for him?”

“I used to be his personal servant and made sure people paid their debts to him”

“You were a debt collector?”

“And his personal hit man”

“I always knew you were a killer”

He came out of the bathroom, and looked just like _Boston Blackie_. He kissed my forehead and stroked my head. “When’s the wedding?” I asked him

“Saturday.”

Saturday came, we got in the car, he put on some Harry Connick Jr., my favorite, and rolled down the windows. “Are you ready to meet the most powerful man in hell?”

“I thought that title belonged to the devil himself.”

“He’s just as much a prisoner here as we are, he’s so desperate to get back into heaven he’d happily just let Alastor run the place.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because I’ve heard the devil say so, Alastor practically took me everywhere, even with his meetings with the prince of darkness himself.”

“I wouldn’t expect the devil to say something like that, he doesn’t care about anything?”

“His wife and daughter, but that’s it.”

“He looks the type to be as powerful as God himself down here.”

“Looks can be deceiving, God is still in control down here, but he let Lucifer call himself king because he still wanted to keep on good terms.”

“Ah. Who is Alastor marrying anyways?”

“Charlie Magne.”

“I couldn’t imagine Lucifer is going to be happy about this.”

“Neither can I.”

I laughed a little and covered my face. I stuck my head out the window and saw lights and heard music blaring.

“We must be nearing,” I said to him.

Our music in the car was drowned out by the time we parked. I said to him, “I hope that things don’t go rotten, I’m happy for them, truly”.

“So am I.”

Anybody who was anybody was there. Except Lucifer and Lilith.

Jake had finally made his way to the groom, and said “Alastor, you don’t look a day over 100.”

“Jake, it’s been a long time. Care to introduce me to your friend?”

Jake wrapped his arm around me and said, “This is my boyfriend, Alexander” as I stuck my hand out to shake his, “Pleased to meet you,”

“Good to know my favorite employee has found love himself, pleased to you as well.”

Jake let go of me, and said “So, where’s the lucky lady?”

“She’s freshening up. I’m rather disappointed her parents aren't here, but they didn’t approve of our relationship in the first place”  
“It’s rather rotten they didn’t show. I hope things get better with them,” I said.

“So do I,” The Radio Demon said, scanning the crowd for anyone who could be a nuisance.

We sat down, waiting for the service, guess who stood at the altar but Bing Crosby himself, how he came down from heaven to do the service I don’t know, I guess God must have a soft spot for weddings. The new Mrs. Charlie Laveau walked down the aisle, and right as Bing said, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” a voice came from the back

“I have a problem with this. Charlie, I still love you”

Alastor looked back, recognized him and said, “Didn’t I almost kill you already?”

“Almost, but that was 2 years ago. I’m here for her”

“Seviathan, I told you, I don’t love you anymore”

“Please darling, give me a chance”

Alastor pulled his suit jacket off, summoned his staff, and the band started playing _Zorba The Greek_. They bickered and argued, until they reached the climax of the song and Alastor beat him with the staff and kicked him so savagely his ribs and leg bones were practically dust. He spilled some of Seviathan’s blood on his face, and wiped it off. With some blood remaining on his shoes, Alastor put his jacket back on. Jake had to stifle laughter, everyone else was shocked, I was stunned. He was probably the toughest yank I’ve ever seen. “Let us continue,” he said.

After the ceremony, Frank Sinatra was singing ‘Love and Marriage’, and people were dancing. They drank like there was no to-morrow. Jake and I were at the bar, he didn’t look good, I asked him “Jake, what's wrong?”

“I feel rotten”

“Why’s that?”

“I drank too much bad cognac”

“I’m sure you’ll feel better” as I handed him some ibuprofen.

He kissed me and said “Thank you.”

Jake was right, the cognac was bad. I drank a worse beer to get the taste out of my mouth, and then we sat down with him at a table. “Let's dance” he said

“I’d rather not”

“Please, I’d love you to dance with me”

“If you’d love me to, maybe it’ll be fun”

“It will be”

He took me by the hand and led me to the middle of the dance floor. The song that was being played was called ‘I begged her’, it was a pretty song. We danced as Frank Sinatra sang, could he sing. Jake’s arms around me, I felt secure for the first time in a very long time. After we danced, we went back to the table and he kissed me on the cheek and said “You should like dancing more, you’re quite good at it.”

“Thank you, it just feels strange when I dance”

“If you truly don’t like it, that's fine”

“Thank you.”

He sat next to me, his arm around my shoulder, and kissed me again. I saw the Groom and Bride dancing, they looked great together. She was in a long white dress that matched her skin, he wore a black suit with a tie, unusual for him. Our table was next to the street, I saw Seviathan crawling on the sidewalk bleeding. I walked over to him and said “You have to admit, you brought it on yourself this time”

“I suppose I did, matters not though” he had a faint German accent

“You did say some rather rotten things to him”

“That’s love, willing to bleed out on the sidewalk at her wedding to another man to get your word in”

“That’s rather profound, you always looked a fool”

“Looks can be deceiving”

“Would you like a ride to Mengele’s office or anything?”

“Please. Take me to my mansion, I’ll pay you”

“Alright”

I got in the car and drove around to him, and laid him in the front passenger seat.

“Go straight for 5 blocks, then turn onto Heartattack.”

“Alright, so how did you meet her”

“Her father and mine are friends and often hunted together”

“So you were childhood friends with her?”

“Sort of, she was a crush”

“You had a crush on her this entire time?”

“She was that to me for a little while and she felt the same way in grade 10, we dated for a little while. Things got rather rotten towards the end”

“How rotten?”

“No abuse, people who talk are the only ones who deserve to be down here. She just stopped caring for me”

“Tough luck,”

I turned onto Heartattack, he said “Take the right onto Euclid in 3 blocks. And yes it is. The worst part is she married a yankee”

“I’ve tried American men, they aren’t as polite as us. You may be a boche but you’re still more polite than Americans”

“You’re absolutely right”

“Would you like a cigarette? I don’t smoke myself though”

“Thank you” and he took the cigarette I handed him, then pulled out an engraved zippo and lit it.

“I like your lighter”

“Thank you”

We said nothing to one another until I turned onto Euclid and saw a huge house.

“This is it, just pulled around the western part of it and my servants will take me in. Here’s 10 thousand dollars” he said as he pulled out a few wads out of his coat and laid them on the console.

“How can I ever thank you?”

“It’s fine, I underpaid you for saving my life”

I pulled up next to the bay, and rolled down the window, he yelled out the window and called to a guard, and some of the servants came down and carried him in.

I drove back and Jake was sitting at our table with the new husband, “Where were you Alexander?”

“I drove Seviathan to his home, he gave me 10,000 dollars to do so”

“We were just talking about him”

I turned to Alastor and said, “Despite your reputation, you are not very good at killing him”

“I wasn’t trying to kill him, this time or the last”

“Ah, I falsely accused you, sorry”

“It’s fine, I don’t believe either of you’ve been introduced to my lovely bride”

“No we haven’t” Jake said.

“Dearest, come over here please, I’d like you to meet some people”

She came over and Alastor said “This is Jake, and his boyfriend Alexander”

“Charmed” I said

“Pleased to meet you” Jake said

She said “It’s great to meet you both! Alastor talks about you a lot Jake.”

“Only good things I hope”

She bent down to kiss Alastor and walked off.

“She’s lovely” Jake said to us both

“Why do you think I married her?”

“Fair point”

“Alexander, are you just not talkative?”

“I never talk to strangers”

“Ah, you can’t be as powerful as me without doing that”

“Of course.”

“How did you feel about the wedding?”

“It was great”

“I’m glad you liked it, she wished a fellow named John Lennon would’ve sang, whoever that is”

“I don’t like Lennon’s music, I prefer more jazzy stuff like you”

“I love more than just jazz, I love all music”

“Really? People said you liked jazz only”

“There are a lot of things about me people will never tell you.”

“Makes sense”

Bing Crosby and Bob Hope, both down from heaven, they looked rather angelic and like human beings, got on stage and Bing said "Hello folks! We're here to entertain the lovely bride and the groom here", and Bob said "So we rewrote this song we sang in 'The Road to Bali'"

"Why are you cutting into my shpeel Buster?"  
"Me interrupt you? what about that time with that Princess?"

"It's not my fault she liked me more"

"Paramount liked you more, that's it"

"Alright Junior, 'New Orleans Style' everybody!"

**Bob: Who's that comin' down the thoroughfare**   
**The sunshine flashin' on his ring**   
**Bowin' left and right and here and there**   
**That's Alastor, the piano king**

**Bing: He gets his shirts straight from Paris**   
**Cigarettes from the Nile**   
**He talks like a 'highbrow', but he plays New Orleans style**

**Both: He gets his shoes made in London  
And they're real crocodile  
But he plays piano...New Orleans style**

Bing started tap dancing, Bob said "It took us years to get the lead out of his feet"

"As if you have room to talk"

**Bing: He's got no neat Latin mustache  
And the girls love his smile  
Both: But he plays piano...New Orleans style  
A piano made in Newark  
Played in New Orleans style**

Bing and Bob both sat down at a Chickering piano, Bing played base while Bob played tenor, Bing was slowly moving up the keys, "What're ya doing" Bob asked him

"I'm expanding my range"

"you already have plenty range right where you're at"

They got up as the piano fell apart, and continued singing

**Bing: He gets his neckties from Naples**   
**And his socks from Argyle**   
**Speaks Oxford English, but he plays New Orleans style**

**Bing: Wears a stickpin from Rio, are you listenin'  
You can see it for a mile  
But he plays piano...New Orleans style**

**Bob: And he sometimes plays sweet  
Bing: Uncle Jake's weary blues  
Both: But sweet or hot, he's always got  
That real gut-bucket beat**

**Bob: He likes New York for the Opera**   
**Bing: And gets two on the aisle**   
**Both: But he plays piano...New Orleans style**   
**A piano made in Newark**   
**Played in New Orleans style**

"There both of them are!" a woman from the curtain called out, "We better get outta dodge quick Junior" Bing said

"You said it" Bob said as they ran off, and ascended back to heaven as a woman and her father chased after them

Everyone clapped, Alastor said "Charlie had to pull a few strings to get them down here, but I can never repay her for it"

"She really loves you doesn't she"

"And I her, Hell was a blessing in disguise for me, except the reputation"

"How so?"

“People seem to think I’m some sort of Englishman, kissing every woman I meet on the hand. Needless to say, I dislike my reputation.”

“That does seem rather rotten.”

“It is. She saw that wasn’t who I am and she loved me, she’s truly wonderful.”

“She sounds so.”

“I’ve never met someone quite like her.”

Jake sat there silently.

“So, whatever happened to the hotel she opened up?”

“It was a resounding success, at least for those who wanted to get in heaven. A lot of residents grew some sort of pride for being not allowed into heaven.”

“I have some pride about it, that I’m not good enough to get into heaven. Pride is a fickle thing.”

“Exactly.”

“So where are you honeymooning?”

“Burma-Shave, it has quite an excellent street culture from what I hear.”

“I’ve been there, it’s quite like Rome with its street culture if you’ve ever been there”

“I loved Rome.”

“The blues scene is exquisite, Charley Patton and Lead Belly play in the bars and on the main streets an awful lot”

“I’m actually related to Charley Patton”

“Really?”

“He was my father’s second cousin”

“I didn’t expect that.”

Charlie came over and had his arm wrapped around her when she sat next him. “We were just talking about my family and Burma-Shave my dear, according to our friend here it’s a pleasant place”

“Wonderful” she said tiredly, leaning into him, her eyes shut

“Do you want to go to sleep?” he asked her

“Yes please”

He turned to me and Jake and said “Will you excuse me for a moment?” 

Jake looked at his watch, and said “Alexander, it’s almost midnight, we really ought to go”

“Alright, hope to see you soon” said Alastor, and then he walked off.

I got back in the car this time, Jake drove, I stared out the window and we said nothing. Back at our house, Jake said to me before we actually entered, “the wedding was great, we should see them more often”

“Yes we should.”

“What was Seviathan like?”

“He’s a rather well spoken and profound individual.”

“Really? He always looked quite stupid.”

“To quote the man himself, ‘Looks can be deceiving’.”

“I suppose that's true”

We got in the house, both of us changed into our pyjamas, and we went to sleep.


	4. In The Neighborhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Friday's a funeral and Saturday's a bride  
> And Sey's got a pistol on the register side  
> And the goddamn delivery trucks, they make too much noise  
> And we don't get our butter delivered no more

Hannibal sat in his shop, waiting for it to be over. He saw an exterminator through the window and hoped he wouldn’t get curious. By the grace of Satan, he didn’t. A sawed off shotgun in hand, ready to take his own life before he gave the exterminator’s the pleasure. A watch in the other, waiting for it to tick over, praying even. After the clock ticked, and the exterminators left, that part of town grew life once more. He stepped out of his shop, and to his surprise saw a dead exterminator, he dragged it to an apartment block near him. He got some of the other Irishmen together, covered the body in an English flag, and carried it down the street, singing ‘The Wild Colonial Boy.’ They got to a roundabout, a big statue of CuChúlainn stood there, they sat the body in front of the roundabout, covered it in kerosene and burned it. Around the flaming British flag and corpse, they danced and sang, people came down into the streets playing guitars, fiddles, mandolins, banjos, accordions, everything a person could imagine. Drinks and food were passed out for free, this was extermination day in Westie since the start of Westie. 

In the morning, Hannibal woke up with a terrible hangover in the bed of a man he didn’t recognize, got up, and went to the bar to cure his hangover with more whiskey. Inside, he saw Henroin sitting with Arackniss, one of his sons. Henroin was telling off some fella. Hannibal walked up, and tried to intervene, and said “what’s going on here?”

Henroin said “He took liberties he shouldn’t had with my daughter, Molly”

“What the feck did you do?” Hannibal asked the fella

Before he could answer, Henroin said “He said some things he shouldn’t had”

The fella said “I said good morning to her,” turns out he was a yank.

“You said good morning, but it was goodnight you had on your mind”

The yank said “That’s a lie”

“What was that?”

“I said that’s a lie”

“That’s one word I’ll take from no man!” Henroin said as he pulled a knife and jumped up at the yank. His son held him back and said something Italian that made him calm down

Hannibal said “Henroin, get the feck out of this part of town or I’ll shoot you down myself”

“No!”

Hannibal produced a 1911 and cocked it. He said to Henroin “This is your last chance” before pointing it at Henroin.

“Fine.” He said something in Italian to his son who pulled out a little black book out, pointed at Hannibal and said “Hannibal O’Shaughnessy”

“Ooh, You're gonna write me name down in the little black book, I’m so scared” Hannibal said, “That’s Comandante Hannibal O’Shaughnessy”

Henroin walked off with his son. Hannibal then popped out of the bar and yelled “Oh Henroin! Tell that whore son of yours I’d like another night with him! Ha!” And started laughing and laughing before coming back in. Hannibal turned to the yank and asked “What’s your name yank?”

“Robert. Robert Fitzgerald”

“You need a place to stay Robert?”

“Sure”

Hannibal and Robert went back to Hannibal’s shop, and above it was an apartment that Hannibal lived in. As soon as he got there, Robert produced a sleeping bag, “What’s that you got there?” Hannibal asked

“A sleeping bag”

“A sleeper bag?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not have beds in America?” Hannibal then started to laugh and laugh

“Very funny,”

“Let me make up the coach up for you” he walked over to the coach and pulled out the bed from within it.

“How do you know that guy?” Robert asked,

“I used to work for Paddy O’Moore, the man who runs this part of town. He sent me to make deals with people, and a guy named Lon Fahy to deal with them, if ya get me. I had to deal with Henroin and his gang multiple times”

“So is he in the mob?”

“Yeah. So what’re ya doing with his daughter?”

“I’m trying to get with her”

“Good luck with that, he’d sooner kill a suitor then give him the time of day”

“I don’t think it’s that impossible”

“He’ll be gunning for ya boyo”

“If you say so”

“If you want somewhere safe, Henroin can’t come through these streets without being gunned down if he’s coming to kill ya”

“Thank you for the protection, I’m should be leaving”

“Just don’t bring her here”

“Alright”

Robert sat his stuff down and walked out the door, Hannibal took the opportunity to stretch his legs. He took his ivory cane and 1911 and started walking down the street, a man came up to him and called up to him, called him a pansy, so Hannibal knocked him down and beat his head in with his cane. After his exhilarating walk, Hannibal went home and saw Robert sitting on the coach-bed reading, Hannibal said “Yank, I just realized I haven’t welcomed you to westie,”

“Westie?”

“This part of town, it’s where the Irish and Scots settle down away from the britishers”

“Oh, thank you”

“Come along boyo, I’ll show you around”

“Alright”

They walked down the street, Hannibal introduced him to the old main drag and the giant CuChúlainn statue, and spat upon the charred exterminator and english flag. From there it split off on either side, turning into Sands street on the east, and Wallace street on the west, the old main drag going north-south. Hannibal said to Robert, “Boyo, I suggest you get some protection since you’re goin after Molly’s heart”

“Where would we get ‘protection’?”

“Right here” Hannibal said as he tapped his cane on the door of ‘John Gray’s Firearms and Ammunition Dispensary’

“They have everything a fella could need” Hannibal said and laughed as he went in the door, “Good morning John, my friend here is in the market for some ‘protection’!”

John said “What’re ya in the market for?” to Robert

“A pistol or a revolver or something”

“May I interest you in a FNX .45, it shoots a knock-down 45 with the capacity of a 9 milimeter”

“What else do you have?”

“If you’re man enough, try the mighty Colt Dragoon, it comes in a pair though”

“Can I try the Dragoon at the range?”

“Sure, it’s right around the corner”

Robert went to the range, put both hands on the dragoon, and pulled the hair trigger. The thing kicked like a mule, but it was powerful. The pair of dragoons were recreations of the old dragoons, but the recreations were a lot more reliable, made for a .45 Colt cartridge, with a 9/5 inch barrel like the old Colt Walkers and with more comfortable grips. He walked out of there with two filled holsters around his waist, plus he got a knife and about 200 rounds of ammunition. Back at Hannibal’s shop, in the door came Lon Fahy. “Lon, what’re you doin here my friend?” Hannibal asked in a playful manner

“I’ve got word Henroin is gonna burn this place to the ground”

“I’ll be ready” Hannibal said as he showed Lon a custom Browning Automatic Rifle with a drum magazine and his personal 1911.

“That’s nice, but you sell liquor, It’s hard for this place to not explode.”

“Ya got a point, but I’m sure I can make it work”

“Of course _comandante_ , but I’m not gonna let you do it alone”

“What's that?”

“I’m gonna be here with ya when the bullets start flying”

“Thank ya, but I don’t think that’s necessary”

“It is, I’m stayin with ya and so are my boys”

“I’ll pull out some cots, just don’t rough the place up, I still have to sell things”

“Alright”

Lon and his men, each with their thompson guns and trench guns sat by windows. A few hours passed, and it was about 2:30 in the morning and a car approached. It pulled up in front of the shop and a few men came out, including Arackniss. Hannibal got on the speaker system of his shop and blared ‘The Wearing of The Green’, the mobsters outside were confused. Lon aimed his Thompson and he and his men started firing. A gun fight broke out between the Italians and Irishmen. The mobster’s had only glocks, not enough compared to their enemies' long guns. Eventually, Arackniss was the only one left. Hannibal and Lon approached him, around the car and they saw him with his gun aimed at them. He pulled the trigger. The gun went click. Hannibal laughed and laughed, “Ya forgot to count your bullets boyo!” he said as Lon took his gun. “We’re not gonna kill ya, just ask ya a few questions,” Hannibal said. Lon held a gun to him as they walked him back to the shop. In the basement, they tied him to a chair, and Hannibal asked him “Why did your Da put you up this?”

Arackniss said something in Italian

“Speak goddamn english!” Lon said as he smacked the Italian.

“Thank ya Lon,” Hannibal said, “Why did he have you do this?”

“I. Am. Not. Talking.”

“Jesus christ, if you want Lon here to torture you, I have half a mind to let him do it”

“Go ahead”

Hannibal said “I’ll be right back” and disappeared. He reappeared with a hacksaw, blowtorch, and a pair of pliers, “Your last chance boyo” Hannibal said. The sight of the tools scared him to the point where he said “Alright, I’ll talk, just don’t use those on me!”

“Music to me ears, so why did your da put ya up to this?”

“I did it on my own”

“Ha! You couldn’t hurt a fly, nor outsmart one”

“I did, honestly”

Hannibal rolled his eyes and said “ _Sure_ boyo, why did _you_ do it then?”

“I wanted to impress him”

“What a dandy job ya did at that”

“Hey! Stop making fun of me!”

“Alright lily-liver, that fellow your father was telling off this morning, he’s after your sister’s heart-”

“I could tell that”

Hannibal took his cane and smacked Arackniss on the head, “don’t interrupt me. Now, about my friend, what’re the chances my friend is gonna die by your da’s hands?”

“My father will kill him if he tries to go after Molly”

“Alright, anything we can do to change that?”

“If he was Sicialian he might not kill him, but he doesn’t seem sicialian.”

“He isn’t at all”

“Then my father will kill him”

“Wonderful, what operations are your father planning?”

“He doesn’t let me in on anything”

“Alright, if both your parents are Sicilian, how did your brother end up with blond hair?”

“Even I can't explain that”

“Reminds me of a black fellow I knew with blond hair and blue eyes, his friends called him ‘White Folks’, but his enemies called him ‘Trick Baby’.”

Hannibal heard the door open and close, “I’ll be right back” he said as he walked up the stairs, and caught Robert bringing Molly in the back door. “Christ almighty Robert, I told ya don’t be bringing her here”

“I know, but her old man was gonna kill me”

“He’s gonna kill me too, but I don’t go to playin’ patty fingers with his daughter! Ya know what, I’ve got too much going on right now, just do it quick”

“Thanks Hannibal,” Robert said, Molly just stood there silently and then was led up the stairs by Robert. Hannibal came back down the stairs and said “Lon here will take ya home, and tell your Da that Comandante O’Shaughnessy is not to be fecked with” Hannibal said as he kick Arackniss on the ass out the back door of the place, knocking him on the pavement. They got in Lon’s car with one of his men driving while the others stayed at the shop until morning. Hannibal woke up on a cot in his shop to someone knocking on the door, he uncorked a bottle of whiskey to cure his hangover and opened up the door. The customer bought their choice of spirits and left, he walked upstairs and found Robert sleeping next to Molly, ‘Christ, they did it in _my_ apartment,’ he thought as he walked downstairs and continued drinking while packing up the cots and bullet shells. Eventually Robert and Molly came down, “Robert, you never introduced me to her formally” Hannibal said.

Robert walked over and said “Molly, meet Hannibal O’Shaughnessy”

“Comandante Hannibal O’Shaughnessy, nice to meet ya dearie” Hannibal said as he stuck his hand out to shake hers

“I thought you’re place was being burnt down” She said

“Your brother came by and tried to do exactly that, we gave him a ride home”

“Thanks for that, I should be gone by now”

“Yes, I don’t suppose being in enemy gang territory is in your best interests”

Hannibal leaned back in his chair behind the desk in his liquor shop and lit up a cancer stick, he waited.


End file.
